The Way to Go
by dib07
Summary: The forest and everything around them are changing. Verne gets upset and has nothing but the desire to move to a new place to live. RJ however, has other problems and soon all he knows is the end.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Change 

On a warm, autumn afternoon, cars rolled by like indifferent machines to their eccentric environment, humans busied themselves with day-to-day activities. The soft yet disruptive churning of a lawn mower hummed as blades swished and grass was cut. Suburbia had never known tranquillity. It was always changing, ever moving, ever progressing.

The peak of the waning sun gently lit like a crescent of golden light above a manmade building the size of a mountain.

The expanse of the only green forest area left was as remote and tiny as ever. In fact, as a year went by, the animals that lived there were pushed back further and further until humans interrupted their lives on a daily basis. There was no escaping them. Trees were cut down like sugar canes, scrubs and bushes were mowed down like they weren't even there. The birds fled as new constructions emerged from the devastated land.

Of course, Verne and his woodland friends had watched the humans with keen interest, and with a little fear before, but now they dreaded them. For they wrought death. Humans were mysterious creatures with enigmatic purposes. They crushed everything with no emotion, taking more and more each and every day. They were consumers. Barbaric and sinless.

Verne, a tortoise that had been living in suburbia all his life was now facing some dramatic decisions. He either had to convince everyone to keep looking at the positive side of life and hope the humans would edge off, to go in deeper into their cold society. He wasn't sure which would prove more dangerous.

The last, still lake of the shrinking miniature woodland rippled as a leave struck its glimmering surface. The lake was the animal's meeting place for making team decisions. The log they once lived and met in before, had got crushed and demolished like much of the woodland.

Ozzie and Heather were by the lake, talking vividly under the dappled glow of the sun pining through the leaves. The possums had been very affected by all the sudden changes. Ozzie in particular was confused as to when to play dead whenever danger was coming. Verne could hear them argue densely.

"But dad," Heather muttered through her fine gritted teeth, "you're not being careful enough!"

"Of course I'm careful!" He sighed, crossing his small arms and shaking his head until his black dotted ears flapped, "Heather, you have to know when to take risks! Playing possum is above all the safest most ingenious thing ever! We have a advantage over everyone else!"

"Not when you're running out in broad daylight to get food and then run back in again!" Heather retorted, rolling her eyes, "its better if you stay low for a while, the humans may leave when it gets colder."

Ozzie opened his mouth to say something, a little nettled to be told what to do by his own daughter. But he was interrupted. Verne emerged from the clearing tentatively, a weak smile on his face.

"Hey guys," he said, attempting a little wave, "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation!"

Heather looked wearily over at him. "My dad just ran out there again today while they were snapping down our favourite tree."

"Who, the humans?"

"Yeah." She looked down over at the lake. "What do we do Verne?" For a long time the animals had ignored the human intrusions until it got too late. Animals are creatures who have to accept change, or die. And so, having already tasted living with humans, they thought it wouldn't be much different when they visited them. But now, Verne knew there was no end to the death toll over their dying home.

"That's what I've been thinking about." Verne answered nervously, "and it's getting worse."

"What is?" Asked Ozzie sadly. He didn't really want to know the answer.

"Well, winter's approaching. We only have fifty-four days left. The only good news is that our food collection for the winter is good."

"How good?"

"Good, good."

"Not all the humans are harmful!" Ozzie said tightly, "I'm old for a possum and not once have a been hurt by one, even after years of being close to them!"

Heather looked at him angrily.

"Ozzie," Verne stated matter-of-factly, "you've only known these humans properly for a year thanks to RJ. If you've forgotten, he introduced us to them in the first place. So thanks to him, we know these humans better."

Heather perked up. "Maybe he might know how to help us then?" She asked timidly, "if he knows them better than we do?"

Verne looked over his shoulder, almost expecting the racoon to come striding out of the bushes. When he looked back at the possums, he only saw fear and desperation masking their faces. Even though they wanted RJ's advice, they were still ultimately looking to Verne to see what he thought was best. And he was proud of that. Having two leaders all the time sure was confusing and stressful.

"Okay, I'll ask him, but in the meantime, no risks, and I want you both to think what we should do before winter hits." He had a horrid fear that they'd hibernate right under the humans' feet, only to be killed in their slumber. He inwardly shivered at the thought.

_Our home is being destroyed._

Verne's countenance was twisted in worry. What could they do? He felt that he urgently needed to do something. And he knew he should have planned something a lot sooner.

Stella, the skunk, and also his best friend, jumped out of the bushes, with Tiger following her.

"Good evening, turtle Verne." Tiger announced politely. Even after almost a year of the cat's company, Verne had never got used to Tiger's presence and his flash of claws and teeth.

"I'm a tortoise, Tiger." Verne corrected him flaccidly.

"Sorry." He said, meaning it.

"Where are you going?" Stella looked at him briefly before stepping closer to her mate. Verne had been aghast when the skunk and the cat had declared that they were now close partners. Interbreeding was not his twig to chew on. And if they ever had a chance of producing off spring, they would be sterile.

"To see RJ. You haven't seen him, have you?" The darkness had started to seep into the tiny wild enclosure and Verne was growing tired. He wasn't nocturnal.

"Checked all his favourite spots?" Stella asked shrilly, pruning her long silky tail, which was also her deadly weapon.

"I vhink he may be getting more vood again." Tiger suggested.

"From where?"

Tiger shrugged his shoulders, his ductile fur shaking glamorously under the strengthening moonlight.

Worry was beginning to settle over Verne. Their world was so small now, as it had been cut back by schizophrenic mowers and metal dragons, that it was easy and quick to find any one of his friends.

Stella must have seen the anxiety swirling like a mist in Verne's eyes. "He'll be okay, wherever he is. RJ always knows what he's doing."

Verne nodded reluctantly. The ambient temperature was dimming. Stella and Tiger past him by as they continued with their romantic chit-chat.

Verne stumbled through the thick course weeds and sweet-smelling dandelions. "RJ, where are you?"

Verne needn't have worried.

The sun had finally been defeated by the darkness that clamoured from nowhere and devoured anything in its sight. What RJ truly marvelled at was how the humans managed to keep the yearning darkness at bay. They made lights of their own, like they were gods.

The night was always vast and deep, and the humans lived in a net of their own society, pushing back nature and wildlife as if they weren't a part of it.

The racoon had seldom changed since his arrival prior to a year ago. Despite the knowledge and the experience he had gleaned from his risky adventures, he still dived into danger as if he had learnt nothing.

RJ peered out from the foliage of a large, withering oak tree. Its bark was moulting off as if it were rift with disease and beetles and moths pruned from its aegis as it rotted away. From its staggering branches however, its still provided a brilliant view of the town. The sights were amazing, and only at night. RJ had no need to stare at the sky and count the stars. The humans had made their own stars, and they were by far the most beautiful. The lights were consistently moving, leaving long silvery trails like snails do. Colors of the rainbow bubbled forth in waves. He could watch it all until dawn. But the racoon had other things on his mind.

Claws clutched deeply into the fibrous wood of the oak to make sure he didn't fall, he stuffed a paw into his bag and pulled out a pair of old binoculars. With them strengthening his vision, he saw a pair of humans sitting below him in a concrete garden under a lantern. They were talking readily, their thick, hollow voices reaching his ears. From their smell and their stature, he could tell that they were both females. However, it was not them that had caught his interest. Between them, on a table beside a set of ghostly candles that stretched the eerie shadows was a packet of rare sugar coated almond donuts. The very smell was charging him with electricity of excitement.

Through his time, the racoon had seen so much food go to waste. He knew humans never ate everything that was on their plate. They were the most wasteful creatures he had ever known. So, he was doing them a favour. He was taking what they didn't need. And even then they complained and tried to stop him with their brooms and kitchen knives.

Cautiously, so as not to make too much noise in his concealment of foliage, RJ drew out his fishing rod and aimed it accurately over the empyrean food. The line of his fishing rod had lasted him a long time, but the barbed threads that aligned it with such strength had weakened over so much incessant use.

Claws dug into the wood, holding his breath tightly, he lowered the fishing line down with its clean hook glistening under the frosted moonlight as it descended. The humans were busily talking in the silken air.

"Joe got up this morning, can you believe?" Said the strong female voice to her smaller companion who had yet to mature, "it's the builders. They're keeping everyone up these days!"

"Yes, even I can't sleep. I can't even concentrate to read, ma ma."

"And you'll never believe me, but Ethan's mother has had quite a shock. Her son discovered something weird deep in that forest out back."

"Really? Like what?"

So entranced was RJ, that he did not pay attention to their mundane babble. Animals never had the time to listen. Their lives were short and brisk.

The little hook was cast merrily under the packet. The humans, equally as absorbed into their conversation as he was by the snacks, RJ hauled his prize up and into his waiting arms without difficulty.

"Man, I'm getting good at this."

In triumph, RJ jumped down from the tree and burst through a bush, holding the two donuts he snatched to his downy chest, chuckling in ecstasy. Sometimes he wondered if he nabbed the food for the taste, or for the thrills it brought. However, his shining joy was swept away when he was faced with an angry turtle.

"RJ!" Verne snapped in a blanket of umbrage, "where have you been? I've been looking for you all night and I'm worn out!"

RJ smiled grimly. "Verne, I go where I please! And what could you possibly need me for so bad that you've lost a little nap time, hmm?"

His cocky voice just added to the fire of Verne's ire. "Have you noticed what's happening to this place?"

RJ thought for a moment, wondering if he was being mobbed by a trick question. "Winter's drawing closer? Lemme guess, is it sixty four days left now? Or forty two?"

"It's fifty four! And no, that's what I am here for!"

"The donuts?" RJ innocently tried again, holding the glittery donuts up under the stars. His stomach was roaring in hunger at the smell of them.

"No!" The turtle felt like relinquishing his role of leader so many times. "I just need to talk with you. Follow me."

RJ complied, shoving the heavenly donuts into his mouth like he had been starved. After savouring the taste in his mouth, he trotted up to walk beside his friend. "What is it Verne?" He asked, "you can tell me! I know you're troubled." The splashes of worry in the turtle's eyes were a clear indicator of his friend's mental anguish. "We've known each other for almost a good year now and we're going to have our second winter. I can't wait to see the snow again."

"I hate snow. So I never see snow, because I hate it. Its cold and its wet."

"Well, give me a break, old buddy. There's not much else to do when you're all sleeping en hibernating."

"Yes, that's the problem with racoons, they never stop."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, one day you're going to get in some serious trouble again. Especially with the humans at our doorstep now."

"They've always been at our doorstep." RJ conveniently reminded him. But he still didn't seem to understand what Verne was getting at.

The turtle, tired and fed up, led him to the lake. The crickets softly sung long, restless tunes that bounced on the wind.

He turned and looked at his friend. A year together wasn't very long, but it was for an animal. Verne looked at it more as two summers and a winter. For a human, that time is worth nothing, but for an animal, that's a quarter of their life.

The lake's pale ochre light played across RJ's countenance and chest. Under the illumination, he looked so much older. "RJ, there's been a lot of changes."

"Err, yeah?"

"Well, have you noticed how closed in we are now? The humans are often only feet away and pretty soon I think this whole little place of ours is going to be gone in a matter of weeks." RJ didn't look fazed. "Doesn't that concern you at all? Have you even noticed?"

"Is _that_ why you're so worried? I thought someone had died, you just looked so pale!" A tight smile was hugging RJ's thin black lips, a single canine jutting out, "well, Verne, don't stress yourself any further! This is normal! Humans need lots of space to park their cars, set up big houses, have large furniture…"

"But this is our home!" Verne visibly paled.

"It happens everywhere, Verne." RJ dropped his egotistical façade, allowing a hue of seriousness to equip his voice. "We either live with them this way, or die."

"That's got to be some other way?"

RJ simply shook his head, his bright sapphire eyes grave and morose. "Sorry, Verne. Just gotta go with the flow." He made sure his cobalt bag was comfortable over his shoulders before heading out into the darkness, leaving the turtle to contemplate. The urgency of the danger surrounding them made him feel claustrophobic.

"RJ, wait!" He ran up to the racoon before he was smothered by the darkness. He saw his soft blue eyes stare with perplexity at him. "Wouldn't it be better if we just moved somewhere safer? Somewhere less conspicuous?"

RJ shook his head, his tail swaying in melody to the soft breeze, "Verne, change happens. Moving isn't going to help. You can't flee from your problems. I couldn't." He looked at the moss and the mushrooms on the soft earth for a second before lifting his deep blue orbs to glance at Verne again. "We can adapt, like before." Verne frowned. "Come on!" RJ spread out his paws in aspiration, "life is easier now that the humans are even closer to us! You won't even need to look for food? Great huh? Why would we wanna travel to a dumb forest for?"

"Is that all you think about?" Verne asked unusually coldly, "food? What about me and the others? And this dying forest? Without the forest, there is no us? Understand?"

"There's no need to get angry. I'm not your problem. I think you're just upset at the world right now."

"What does that mean?" The turtle rested his hands on the hips of his chestnut shaded shell.

"It's change, Verne! Why can't you embrace it?"

Verne looked RJ straight in the eyes, fully confronting him, his shyness left behind back at the lake. "Oh, and I suppose its all right that a few of us get slaughtered then? For change? Yeah, great deal. Lemme guess, did your parents do the same thing to you too?"

RJ's ears pressed down flat against his fuscous skull, furious. For a moment Verne thought he would snap insolently at him. But he didn't. He turned and swiftly stepped into the aegis of the forest shadows that ate the light.

"You're wrong Verne. You simply don't understand what's in a large woodland. Its better here."

"Why, RJ?" But he had already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

The Way to Go

By dib07

Disclaimer: I may own a racoon, two possums, a turtle, a squirrel and fifteen porcupines and a hedge, but I don't own Over the Hedge, if that makes any sense.

Note: Very short chappie I know, but it gets better, trust me.

Thank you very much for reading and reviewing:

Jeffaplus  
Fangsire

And AngelsWings5

Thanks again! This chappie is for you authors out there!

Chapter 2: Decisions

The sun was a wispy pale version of its former self as it rose over the clouds that next autumn morning. The happy critters of the forest were playing happily, as if all tribulation of the previous day of the humans were but a bad memory. Verne watched them play contentedly from the lake. The warmth of the sun spread over his shell like a knife curving melting butter over a stone. But as he watched, a towering, ugly shadow started to form over the playing forest folk. Verne looked up, face twisting from pleasure to fear in an instant. There, grotesquely misshapen and enormous was a metal dragon, complete with flat, numerous teeth and a tall yellow neck. It whined pensively as it brought its head down upon them before rearing. At once the animals chimed into a high clamour of screams. The dragon came rushing down like an avalanche of rocks, of a hawk diving, its beak ready to scour and kill. The teeth struck the floor and the earth floundered into the sky in waves. Trees ripped and tore. Birds, once nestled in their roosts, came fluttering out like a hurricane of flies in their thousands. Blood sprayed and rained, grass was rented, the sky turned a mouldy shade of brown.

Verne was running to break free from the evil, but there was no way to run. Ozzie was gone, so was Penny and Lou. All gone. He saw bodies on the floor, but he was too frightened to see whom they belonged to. Friend or foe.

At last he saw RJ withered in with the madness. He was cowering in the shadow of a great sneering dog, baring its teeth into a grim smile, ready to bite him…

Verne woke up swiftly. He sat up so fast he hit his head on a branch of a tree that he had been sleeping under in the gorse bushes. Cursing softly, he rubbed his sore head and emerged from his napping place. To his relief the forest still was like it was, at least for now.

"Thank heavens it was only a dream." But the visions that had plagued him during his sleep flecked before his eyes during the day. He could not forget what he had dreamt. It had seemed all real. And to Verne, ever the cautious, paranoid type, it meant that it was surely a warning of what was soon to be brought forth?

He found Tiger curled up among the rushes later into the bright morning. The last of the toads were smuggling flies into their mouths before the dawn of winter. Untidy moths that fluttered languidly through the air reminded Verne that they only had fifty three days left until winter. And they needed time to travel, we they were going to.

Tiger lifted his large head when he heard the turtle approach. "Verne? Nice to see you!" he remarked before stretching. "Stella says she gone vo see vor some food."

Verne nodded. He heard a dry clinking in the distance to the east. It was the sound of man getting closer, tearing the last remnants of their home bit by bit.

"Err, Tiger, are you worried at all about the humans?"

"But of course!" Said the feline, smiling, "I know dem you see, they are very peculiar creatures. Never happy. Always moving."

"And destroying." Verne added bleakly. "But if you know these humans so well, having been with them for some time, what do you suggest we do?"

He was hoping for a better answer than RJ's had been.

"Leave zis place." Tiger said immediately without thought or hesitation. "I know that beyond this place is a heartland, a voodland so vast we could escape in zit and never see a human again." His words were bulging with pride. "I've been zere before."

Verne became very interested. "You have?"

"Yes."

"How far is it?"

Now the cat's face was blemished with doubt. "Far."

"How far?"

"I am not very sure."

"Would you know the way?" Verne asked hopefully.

Tiger looked about him for a second. "I think." He finally said, "but I would need someone to see ahead, over the rooftops. Is hard to see vith so many humans."

Verne nodded his agreement. Human dwellings, such as the houses they lived in, blocked the animals from seeing very far into the distance at all. Either Hammy would have to climb to a rooftop to pinpoint where they are constantly, or they'd need some kind of bird to help them.

"Thank you, Tiger. I'm so worried." Verne confessed, "we have to leave this place. It's evil. And my tail tingles constantly."

"Ves. I feel it too. Stella does not vant to live here anymore. She say many of her family have already moved on."

"But to where? The heartland?"

Tiger shrugged passively. "The heartland is a magical place vough. It lies in ze north, where ze mountains grow."

"Will it be safe?"

"Ves." Tiger replied confidently. "I saw it many years ago when I vas a kitten. My old master used to live on the outskirts of such a beautiful place."

Verne rubbed his shoulder nervously. "How far is it though, Tiger? We have to move a whole family from here."

"It took me two day's drive. Vat that vas in a car. It could take us a week to walk there."

"A week?" Verne cried. That was too long. There was a jungle of humans just beyond the border of the small forest. A week? Stepping into the unknown, surrounded by danger?

_A week?_

He needed to talk to the others about this. Maybe there was some other way? Maybe?

_A week means its going to be a heck of a long way._


	3. Chapter 3

A/N; Omg thank you all those people out there for reviewing! I love you all! Support is so underrated and we authors need it. It feeds us!

Sorry for the lack of an update. My thesaurus died on me and I had to go out and buy a new one that was so different and strange and only just now I've got the grip of how to use it again.

Special thanks to;

Took-Baggins Whisper In the Wind

AngelsWings5

for reviewing

Warning: Character death

Disclaimer; Over the Hedge and all its characters are not mine. But Coldwing belongs to me. At the moment he is perched on my shoulder, eating my trench coat.

Chapter 3: Coldwing

'_Only enemies speak the truth; friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in a web of duty.' – Stephen King_

The rainwater made the world seem cold and forlorn. Water dripped from leaves, little indentations in the ground soon become swollen pools. Running streams criss-crossed over miniature caravans and crevices as rainwater filled the whole forest with a doleful song.

RJ sat at the edge of the lake, peering at his broken reflection in the water as it rippled and wavered. Finding some peace and quiet to himself hadn't been easy since most of the forest was crowded with panicked animals.

He took out a packet of French Fries from his golf bag and opened it miserably. The sparse canopy of branches above him didn't provide much shelter from the charge of the rain. But he didn't car. Loose threads of water trailed down his dense henna fur as he munched into his crisps.

"Verne's wrong." He spoke to himself. When he had wondered alone before he had met Verne and his family, he often talked to himself out of habit. It was what he did when there was no one to speak with and often his old habits resurfaced whenever he was sad and lonesome. It was a meagre comfort to organise his thoughts now in the rain. "We're just fine here. Why move when we have everything?" He knew Verne always had a firm distaste for humans. And he was letting his selfishness change everybody else's way of life by moving out. And where would they go? Every place had the same story attached to it. Humans this, humans that. There was no getting away from them and Verne just had to upset them.

"Just like last time." Whenever Verne got remotely panicked, he often did stupid things by accident. Like when he had ruined all the food he and the others had collected while Vincent had been breathing down his back.

His fur was beginning to turn sodden with wet. He cast his cobalt eyes to his watery reflection again. The racoon staring back at him looked troubled and anxious. A rare sight for such a proud creature to be engulfed by blackness.

One creature moving out of the forest was easy. He had been a wide, avid traveller, bypassing danger and having many adventures along the way with but one to look after. But a whole family? It couldn't be done.

There was a low solemn rustle in one of the bushes beside RJ. The racoon became alert, and tried to sniff out the perpetrator. But the moistness of the storm kept him from identifying the source. Then, out like an arrow came a long orange thing with arms, legs and a tail.

RJ relaxed. It was Hammy.

The hyperactive squirrel with a brain smaller than his nuts, cheerily bounced up to RJ with a childish grin. "HI RJ!"

"Hello Hamilton." The racoon replied as happily as he could muster, and even then his smile failed. "What's up?"

"Well, I always get bored when it rains." The squirrel darted under the branch cover with RJ to keep out of the story weather, "and it was so nice to."

"What was nice?"

"The warm sun."

RJ huffed impatiently. So much for his tranquillity. He pushed Hammy away from him. "Go sleep then. When you wake up it'll be light again."

"But that's just the thing, I've already slept. And I'm bored. I can't go anywhere with it raining like this!" He ignored RJ's rather rough shoves and scrabbled up onto his damp shoulders. "Do you think it's because of the wind?"

"What wind?" RJ asked, though he wasn't interested. He knew that if he didn't ask, Hammy would keep pestering him until he did.

"Well, I made a new friend today and he helped me find some acorns and nuts and berries and…"

The babble became a rush of meaningless words in RJ's delicate ears as he picked Hammy up and moved him further away from his spot. He was sure he had a pair of human earmuffs in his bag.

"And he said he wants to move too…" Hammy ended, jumping upon RJ's bag and hopping like a mental grasshopper.

That last part of Hammy's irritable story caught the racoon's attention. "Who says he wants to move?"

"Oh, oh, my friend!" He cried happily.

RJ growled, rubbing his paw stressfully over the white plume of fur on his cheek. "Move where?"

Hammy suddenly looked frightened. "I don't know. I don't want to go anywhere. This place is my home."

"Good. I'm not going anywhere. It's Verne. He's filling everybody's head with visions and talk. Soon the whole forest will want to move to the sea, the only place where the humans rarely go."

Hammy's little nose twitched. "What's a 'sea?'

RJ looked at him with lassitude. "It's a great body of water. Goes on endlessly. Quite a marvellous sight and a long way from here."

"I'd like to see it someday."

Later that night, as the rain started to dull and turn into a glean of autumn dew, RJ had a restless sleep. Bears were chasing him. All of them had black fur and sabre like teeth that came down on him like white stone pillars. When he woke, he was still bogged down with asthenia. However, now that the storm had passed, the morning was a bright swirl of fine green and brown. The sap of the trees was damp and enervated and the wood pigeons flocked high over the tops of pine trees. His mild mood was swiftly jolted upside down when he heard the squeal of a porcupine.

"Penny!" He darted to his feet and ran like lightening to the source of the scream. The racoon jumped over fallen branches and raspberry bushes, tail catching on the spider webs woven loosely between dainty moss flowers and lichen covered trunks. It did not take him long to get there. There was a gathering of animals, and they were all peering through the hedge, the last defence to the other side where the humans lived.

"Who's hosting the party?" RJ joined them, curiosity bewitching him. He spotted Verne and strutted calmly over to him. "Who rang the dinner bell?"

"You shouldn't be joking about anything, RJ." Verne hissed, his eyes not leaving the gap he was peering through in the hedge.

"Why?"

"Just look."

RJ did. And what he saw, stayed with him forever. It was one of Lou and Penny's children. Laying stone dead on the tarmac of the road just a few feet from the hedge on the other side. A large car rattled past, barely missing the body. It was Quillo. RJ expected him to get up and retreat back into the safety of the hedge. But the little creature did not move. He remained there, like a testament to the danger the animals had come under.

"No…" Penny sobbed behind him. "Not Quillo!" Lou had her in his arms, patting her bristly back.

"Now, now, dear, it couldn't be helped. At least it was quick."

Verne turned to RJ. "This is what is happening to us RJ! We have to leave!"

The racoon swallowed hard. The sight of Quillo's inert body came so unnaturally to him. Was he really dead? After he had known him so long? The porcupines had been quick to grow up into miniature adults. Then they left their parents for the thrill of independence. And now they were one short.

RJ found his voice. "Where are Spike and Bucky?"

"We don't know." Lou said sadly, voice a grainy remnant of itself, "but we've got to find them."

"What was he doing on the other side of the hedge for anyway?" Stella declared boldly, looking each animal in the eye, "all of you should know is darn dangerous! Have you all suddenly gone dumb?"

Penny burst into fresh tears. Ozzie was dumbfounded. "You mean… he's actually dead?"

Heather nodded. The grim reality of it was sinister and frightening.

"It was the humans that did this." Verne said over the disquiet voices, "Quillo was innocent."

"But why did he cross?" Stella asked resolutely. Many of the critters just shook their heads sadly, shrugging.

"Maybe he wanted to explore? To go out there and get food?" RJ suggested. Bad move. Stella came down on him like a striped shark.

"Did you get him to do this? For food? He was always greedy that Quillo! And you had to tempt him, didn't you?" RJ was at a loss for words. Verne intercepted her by coming in between the two.

"Stella, it wasn't his fault. It was nobody's fault. And if we're going to go anywhere, he cant go round accusing everyone and pointing our paws!"

"Verne is vight!" Tiger said.

Some of Stella's former heat seemed to chill down. But she was still angry. And tearful. "You're all mad! I've had it with this place! It stinks more than me! And it stinks of death in here!"

"You're talking about leaving?" Ozzie asked, picking up on Verne's declaration, "but we can't! Where'd we go?"

"We know a place, thanks to Tiger." Verne said, "and we have to leave. We can't stay and wait any longer, otherwise they'll be more of us to join Quillo on that road!"

Penny was in shambles.

"I agree." Heather said brightly, her little teeth showing as she nervously smiled, "I hate this place now. The humans have ruined it."

"But who will guide us?" Lou asked.

Verne smiled at their determined faces. They were looking like they were going to be ready for this! "I will, and RJ and Tiger. Tiger has been there before. He says it's called a heartland and it is perfectly safe. It's nestled at the feet of mountains. A paradise!"

Heather cried in joy. Ozzie looked terrified. "How far, Verne? I'm not a very apt traveller you know. The longest distance I've gone during one day is to the lake and back again from here!"

The turtle knew they'd be crushed instantly if he told them they had a week's distance to trek. And he couldn't lie to them, ever.

"It's quite a way." Was all he said, "but we'll make it. Would you rather risk it all here?" Everyone, including RJ, shook their heads.

Verne was swelling with pride! Finally they would be heading out! Quillo had made the deadly situation all the more real. It was a hefty price to pay, to make them all see the light to sacrifice one of them.

"And I will help you!" Cried a voice not of the crowd. They all looked up to see a great bird land heavily among them from a maple tree. It was a bird of enormous size and fortitude. Its feathers were a brazen red and its tail was a bold blue. At once many fell back in fear. Before them was a bird of prey. The enemy.

RJ, large enough not to be intimidated by the bird, came up to it. "And who are you?" he prodded its soft feathers threateningly.

"I, friend, am Coldwing. I am a redkite, former resident of this place. Well, was, you see I was held captive by the humans a few days ago in a cage. But I escaped."

"How do we know you're not lying?" Hammy asked.

The bird rose its right leg, revealing a plastic, manmade tag. "The humans tagged me with this, the mark of the prisoner. They all do it. And there were many other animals with me and I helped them escape." He sounded rather old and tired. His large, gold eyes peered down at each of the animals in turn. "I fled with my life to this place. The only patch of greeny I could beseech. But I am merely resting. For after my recovery I will begin my journey north, to the heartland."

There were restless, excited murmuring among the group of animals. Verne looked at the strong bird carefully. "And what do you want with us?"

"Only to help you!" The bird stated with a snap of its muddy brown beak. "I can fly and scout ahead. I know the way! My instincts can guide me!"

"And how can we trust you?" RJ asked darkly.

The bird looked stunned for a moment, obviously not expecting the question.

"Yeah," bravely added Heather, "you can eat us, Coldwing. You could turn on us."

"I assure you, I won't allow that to 'appen!" Declared Tiger with a defensive growl in his throat.

"I do not kill!" Exclaimed Coldwing, "after the things I had seen in the cages, I changed my ways forever. No longer do I hunt to kill."

"Then how do you eat?" RJ inquired.

"Berries! Fruit! Fish! Even mice if I am desperate!"

"No baby animals then?" Verne asked.

"No!" Coldwing uncomfortable fidgeted on the spot under so many glaring eyes.

"I don't trust him." RJ said like he had just reviewed a rather sour beverage, "leave him."

"RJ," Verne sighed, "we accepted you into our family! Didn't we?"

The racoon glowered at him, stubbornly folding his arms.

"But he's my friend!" Cried Hammy suddenly, "he helped me find my stores of food for the winter!"

Verne was convinced. "Coldwing," he said, "you have my trust. You're in. But if you betray my trust, you're out. Got it?" The bird nodded hastily. "Good."

RJ blew out a harsh breath. He turned and strode away. He had had enough. The jeer of the voices dulled until all he could hear was the rush of cars and the hum of birds. Brash sunlight snaked down his back until he sat and rested back at the lake.

"RJ?"

The racoon saw his best friend, the turtle step slowly along toward him. He had obviously followed him. Verne sat down next to him, picked up a grass stem and slowly fiddled with it in his grasp.

"I can't believe you let that bird in, when you had only met him for a minute." RJ grumbled, looking away.

The turtle shrugged. "RJ, you are coming with us? Aren't you?" He feared if the racoon was going to reject the offer again. "I won't leave without you."

RJ drew a large breath. He had snuck away from danger so many times. His troubled eyes blinked for a moment. "I'm coming." He finally confirmed shyly.

Verne smiled brightly. He took hold of RJ's paw. "We'll be leaving tomorrow. I just need to know how we're going to transport all out stored food. We need to take something with us, or we'll starve."

RJ nodded. "It was a shame about Quillo. Poor Lou and Penny."

Verne sighed sadly, dropping the grass stems back to the floor. "Yeah. I'm gonna miss him. And this place. And… I'm sorry I shouted at you."

"Hey, no hard feelings, all right?" RJ chuckled cheerily.

They sat together in silent company while RJ thought, trying to decide the best way to transport so much food that would keep the whole family going through their journey. At last, he came up with a solution.

"We'll use the skateboard!"

"Not that old thing." They had stolen it by chance from a housekeeper and a dog a few months ago. The skateboard was a favourite toy of the dog, and RJ wanted it. In order to get it, they had to feed the poodle with a plant that acted like a laxative in with the dog feed. That way they kept the dog busy while they took the skateboard. It had been a master plan.

The skateboard, with a blazing reptile painted underneath it with a logo saying, 'zap it!,' RJ kept it hidden and cherished in a disused rabbit hole.

"It'll work!" RJ informed him, "we'll place all the food on top of it, tie it together and that's it!"

"And how will pull it?" Verne asked.

"Tiger!"

The turtle agreed. "All right. It'll be quick, it has wheels, doesn't it?"

"Of course! That's why the humans used it!"

"But we'll have to travel by night. It's too risky in the daytime. But then that'll conflict my schedule." He moaned. He hated being the only nocturnal animal around.

"But the humans never completely sleep anyway. They never have." RJ told him, "so will it make much difference?"

"Yes, yes it would. There's less cars, less horrible children. Trust me, we'll do fine."

RJ couldn't help but feel worried, despite Verne's rare glowing confidence. He did not like the sound of a giant woodland with a foreshadowing mountain. What if there were bears there? Monsters hiding behind the trees?

A/N; Sorry, that's it for now. You have to wait until next time! I can't wait to get Over the Hedge on DVD when it comes out. All you lucky Americans have got it already. It's not fair!

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello again! New chappie! And I can't wait to get the DVD of Over the Hedge! 3 more days to go! Yay!

Thank you again all those that have reviewed. A bow to all of you! This is another late update, and this chapter's a little slow but soon it'll get real fast.

"And that was the twelfth time I caught rabies." Quoted from Over the Hedge the game. Very funny, so I slipped it in.

Rating: PG 13 due to mild cursing

Disclaimer: I do not own Over the Hedge but the rat characters are mine

Chapter 4: Journey to the heartland

'_Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad.' – Twelfth Night – William Shakespeare_

Farewell was a powerful force. RJ had done it many times. Scenes had changed, times had gone. Families gone. Farewell was but a common term in his glossary. But for Verne it was very new. Saying goodbye was not easy.

Everything was packed. Everyone was ready. Coldwing stood like a proud feathered gargoyle among the possums, the porcupines and everyone else. The skateboard was piled high with food. It was tied with strong, neatly keeping the food tightly packed together. Ozzie didn't think it was enough to feed all of them. He was more worrisome than ever.

The forest, a small little hideaway from the violence of the world, was now a cave of death and they had to step into the metal world of human dreams to survive. They had to get to the heartland. Nothing else mattered.

Spike and Bucky were found, and tagged along with their mother and father on the journey. The loss of their brother had saddened them. And they had one less hand to help them carry all their human game devices.

The troop of animals headed out as soon as it grew dark. Tiger was chef manager of the food, with ropes tied across his shoulder blades and round his neck like a double harness to make sure the skateboard was secure. The ropes were then tied to the front lip of the skateboard to keep it in place.

RJ, helped by Coldwing, led the way. The first step out of the hedge was the hardest part yet. RJ managed it in a single leap, but Hammy had to be thrown out in order to keep him moving. Ozzie and Heather were the last to leave the small sanctuary of the forest were life was serene and ignorant. With sad hearts, they too stepped through the hedge and entered the cold world of the humans.

Coldwing surveyed the air tightly as he circled the animals below. His eyesight wasn't as good by night as it was by day, but he could still see far enough for any signs of humans. But, being not nocturnal by nature, he was tired, and so was Verne.

RJ kept everyone close together. His leadership skills seemed to improve with confidence as he guided them across empty roads and past houses lit up like beacons. The humans smells were disturbing. They had encountered many humans in the past when RJ arrived, but that was different. Now they had nowhere to run to. No home. No safety. Everyone relied on RJ and Verne instead.

Already, Heather was missing the soft grass under her feet. Now all she felt was hard concrete and cold, smooth metal crafted by human hands.

"Turn east, you're straying too far." Coldwing called down from above. His shrill screech made RJ uneasy. It was all the more to attract attention. And their smell would be easy to be picked up by a cat or dog.

The racoon turned left and slipped into a narrow strip of a muddy path. It was what humans called alleyways.

"My feet are sore and tired already." Ozzie said, panting loudly, "how far have we gone?"

"Barely twenty feet." Verne replied, "I swear my shell is weighing me down." He stretched his limbs. "How're you doing RJ?"

But the racoon was not listening. His tail was thickly bristled and his ears were pricked up. "Hide." He suddenly whispered, "dog."

The word sent the critters into panic and bewilderment. "Dog!"

"Dog?"

"Where?"

They scattered like mice under anything they could hide under. Ozzie and Heather didn't take their chances paying dead. They dived into a can of beans while Verne; RJ and the others buried themselves in a cupboard box. Seconds later, a mutt staggered past them, its massive black nose twitching frantically as it skimmed the ground. Thankfully, it was on a leash and a tall, broad shouldered human was walking it.

"Billy!" Snapped the human, "come on, it's late! If you didn't stop at every corner we'd be home by now!" With a pull and a yelp the dog had passed the alleyway entirely. Only after its scent had started to decay did RJ give the all-clear. The animals scrambled out from their hiding places. Even Stella was complaining at the smell. She had hidden in a garbage can.

"That was horrible," Lou exclaimed, "we've only just started and we're scared stiff!"

Hammy nodded firmly in agreement.

"We'll get over this!" RJ said encouragingly, "it was just a lousy dog! They're as dumb as a duck! Now come on! You wanna wait for the next mongrel to come sniffing past here?"

"No thank you." Returned Lou as he went back to his mate.

RJ guided them onwards through the still, deadly night. Verne had never feared night until now. It seemed like a dark monster engulfing the world, never letting them see daylight again. And soon, being not used to being awake in the dead hours, Verne was exhausted. He had to get RJ to stop.

"We need to rest." The turtle explained, "we're all tired. Even Coldwing up there." He pointed to the infamous redkite hanging above them, flapping weakly.

RJ nodded reluctantly. Travelling had kept him distracted from his worries but he knew they needed rest. "All right, Verne, old buddy. I'll find us a place."

While the forest critters waited in the shadows under someone's parked car, RJ disappeared into the inky blackness. He did not return for a long while. When Verne got so worried and was about to look for him, the racoon half ran at them across a road. "This way!" He shouted, "it's perfect! Follow me!"

With a skateboard tagging along behind them, they followed the racoon with earnest. RJ took them down a barren street and into someone's garden. Verne was a little anxious as they were now going off course, but carried on nonetheless. RJ finally stopped at a little water fountain on the edge of the fertilised garden where artificial hedges grew. There was a little hole under the fountain, just large and deep enough to accommodate all of them for the day.

"But what if someone notices?" Verne asked the optimistic racoon.

"Relax, Verne! The humans are always too busy with their lives! They never notice anything that's under their nose!"

Convinced, one by one, the animals went into the hole and curled up to sleep. Coldwing had to find his own roast. Flapping about, judging where would be safe, Coldwing finally landed and slept in an old abandoned shed two gardens down from their location.

"I still don't trust that bird, Verne." RJ mumbled when they were huddled under the fountain. "He could just go and fly there himself. He doesn't need us. And you never know, he could be leading us somewhere else."

Verne shook his head tiredly. "Tiger knows the way. And besides, take it as a good sign that he's helping us, whatever the reason. It think it's a stroke of good fortune that we've got him."

"Maybe." RJ pondered bemusedly. "Maybe." He stayed awake until he could hear the birds singing outside as a new day had sprung. And this time the forest would wake up to find its occupants gone.

Early afternoon came and went. Birds fluttered lazily in the urban skies. Humans zipped back and forth during their daily lives like busy rabbits. Finally, RJ woke up to brisk, scratchy voices as dusk befell Suburbia.

"And that was the twelfth time I caught rabies." Sneered a voice that was unpleasantly cold.

"You know what they say," said a second, chirper and less sharp to the tone, "the thirteenth time will be the unluckiest."

"You stupid claw biter! That's what they all say but it isn't true!"

"How so?"

"Remember Clipper the third? Son of Uptah? He died from being run over only twice. Now that's unlucky."

"Whatever you say."

The voices were drawing nearer. RJ opened his eyes and looked out of the hole under the fountain. The others were still fast asleep.

The warm wind current was sighing easterly, thus giving him the scent of the beasts approaching. He was downwind of them, making him seem invisible to them as long as he remained hidden.

"You seen Bumbletrot this fall? That stupid cracker went up a tree and got eaten by a bird."

"A bird?"

"Yeah, a big one too. Was all red like."

RJ's ears pricked up. Redwing? He shook his head. There were probably lots of other 'red' birds out there.

They were now very close. And before he had a chance of seeing them, he knew by their foul sent what they were.

Rats.

RJ kept low, hoping his family would stay asleep for at least a time so that they wouldn't interfere. The rats passed. There were three of them. And they were large brown vermin, stinking of rotten fish and the crud they slept in. He had fought off one rat before in spring when he had left his parent's nest two years back. It had been a big grey creature with sharp buck teeth and a ruthless kick to match. He could easily silence one or even two rats. But three?

He prepared himself to meet the real vermin of Suburbia, and the ones who were bold enough to steal food from even racoons.

Bucktooth, the slightly larger of the bunch of rats and thus the leader, noticed RJ as a flicker of brown in the corner of his eyesight. His small troop of rat comrades turned to attention as they faced the intruder.

"Ringtail! Ringtail!" Squealed one of his rat comrades.

RJ walked proudly out from under the fountain like it was normal business and he addressed the rats like they were is loyal customers.

"Hello, fellas, and what can I do you for? Beautiful yard here, isn't it?"

Bucktooth gave him a stare of warning. "What do you mean? This is our yard, stranger. Go piss up your own tree."

RJ just kept on walking fearlessly, slowly circling the confused and rather aggravated trio of rats. He wanted to lead them away from the fountain, or at least to a place where Verne and the others wouldn't get in the way.

"Already have." He stated freely, "so, what brings you here?"

"Already told you, varmint," snapped Bucktooth warily, "this is _our _yard! We come here when we please! Now go before we skin you!"

RJ nodded grimly, "but that's just the problem isn't it?"

"What is?" Bucktooth asked, his henchmen growing restless with bloodthirst.

"The humans. We want our own land, as it should be, but these two legged monsters come along and take away everything. Our home, our children. Even our food."

"What's this got to do with anything?" Bucktooth asked, his tail twitching like a distressed worm caught under the sun.

"And I've never had a family." Muttered the second rat."

"That's just it!" RJ said, keeping to his quick made-up plan, "the humans are holding you back! They're keeping you from experiencing all these nice things!"

"Shut up or I'll kill you, ringtail." Spat the leader threateningly.

The racoon stopped his elegant pacing. They were a few extra metres away from the fountain. It was good but not completely adequate. "If you kill me, you won't get my help. And think about it, your lives will be a whole lot better off with my advice."

Bucktooth bravely approached the much larger carnivore. "Prove it to us then, you horrible fat louse! You can talk a lot can't you! Or have you nothing to back your words?"

"Oh, I'll prove it all right, you admirably fluffy brown mice!"

The third rat gleamed at the sardonic comment.

RJ pointed to an open window in the house that owned the yard. "In there," he said smugly, "is the humans stronghold, their fort! But inside is also their weakness, the food! You take it and you'll have control over them!"

The rats were nodding like brainwashed puppets.

"But you have to be quick," RJ continued wily, "because they'll be angry if they see you taking their precious possessions. And once you've done that, they'll leave and the whole house will be yours!"

Bucktooth was convinced like the dumb, greedy rat he was. Forgetting all about the racoon, he turned to his henchmen. "You 'erd em! Get up through dat window! And be swift! Take everything edible you see!"

The rats, with their grimy brown bodies, climbed up the bricks and the old vines to reach the window. RJ quickly ran back to the fountain. Verne had just woken up.

"My head feels like it got flattened by a car tire." The turtle moaned as soon as he saw RJ scurry into the hole under the fountain, "did you sleep on top of my head again, RJ?"

"No!" The racoon whispered. "We have to move, now."

"Why? The sun hasn't set yet and we're hungry! And Tiger kept farting. He doesn't know, cause he can't smell."

"I don't care!" RJ said, "there are rats outside. Nasty little things."

Stella came round at once. "Rats? How many?"

"Erm, three."

The skunk was on her feet, her head touching the ceiling as there wasn't much room in the small burrow. "I'll take em!"

"No, you can't!" RJ whispered harshly, "they'll give you rabies and the case of ticks."

"Well, where are they?" Verne asked. Slowly around him, everyone was waking up.

"Outside… no, in the house."

"The house?"

"Yes! Come on! If they see us they'll steal what we've got!" RJ pulled Verne out of the hole. He checked the are behind him. He suspected that the rats were still in the human dwelling.

Once they were all assembled outside, RJ started to head out, hurrying them on as he did so.

"But what about Redwing?" Hammy asked as he ran alongside RJ.

"We'll worry about the turkey later." RJ said, "for now, we take care of our own hides."

Tiger was at the rear with the skateboard loaded with food as they troop of animals made for their escape out of the yard.

It was a long, fast trek without any pauses in-between. RJ led them across a quiet road junction and past a small set of flats that escalated into the sky like an iceberg. A long growing shadow fitted over the fleeing group like a ghost of death. RJ looked up to see a pair of sharp eagle talons and a golden beak. For an instant he thought he was about to be swept away. But the bird landed clumsily beside him in a spray of feathers and curses.

"Coldwing! Where were you?" Verne asked a little desolately, "we thought you left you behind."

"Wish we had." Remarked RJ.

"I was on vacation." The bird commented sarcastically. "No, I saw this real big rat waddling along so I snapped him up. He was trying to raid a birds' nest."

"See, rats are so dumb, they think they can still get bird eggs in autumn." RJ said.

"Vere are ve?" Tiger asked, "this flipping cart is destroying my beautiful back! Someone needs to cover vor me! I'm no mule!"

Stella nodded. "He's been logging that thing since we left."

"I'll do it." RJ said, "I'm definitely and thankfully larger than you guys."

"Thanks a million, godzilla." Verne said. He untied the ropes from Tiger. "But first, we need to eat. We haven't had breakfast."

Penny nodded. She had rarely spoken, after the loss of Quillo. "Yes. We'd better be vigilant and healthy or the humans we'll cut off our jeepers."

"I don't even want to know what that means." Replied RJ.

The place they decided to rest was an old dumping ground by commercial produce. It was in disuse, with the signs going rusty and corroded. And there was nothing useful to be had but old cardboard boxes and rubber dolls from the factory.

A/N: The rating will go up as the story gets more… nasty… but I'm not going to give anymore away, so younger readers out there, be warned.

RJ: When do I get to eat loads of food? That's what I'm about? Isn't it? ISN'T IT?

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

A:N/ This is probably the last chapter you're going to get from me until just before/after Christmas. My working schedule is very busy. I am doing a full and part time job combined and my novel gets any leisure time I have left to spare, so, extremely sorry, but don't expect to see any updates in a while.

On a better note, I am very pleased with my new Over the Hedge double disk edition DVD. I've barely had any time to watch it but I've enjoyed it to its fullest and it gives large portions of inspiration to continue with this fic. So yeah.

Hex: I am so happy! Yay!

Dib: Jobs suck.

Zim: Dib. You suck.

Disclaimer: We do not own a big large hedge, nor do we own Over the Hedge

Chapter 5: Doubt

'_Now this is the law of the jungle-_

_as old and as true as the sky;_

_And the wolf that shall keep it may prosper,_

_but the wolf that shall break it must die.' – Rudyard Kipling_

It was well into night. The crystal glow of the human lights meant that travel was imminent and that they had to go as far as possible before dawn again.

Coldwing was hobbling on the ground with the odd party of animals. Flying in the dark was never his dream.

"Where are we going?" Verne was asking, "are we going the right way even? Tiger, hello?" He prodded at the large cat who was busy washing himself.

"Vhat?" He asked disdainfully, "can't you see I am vashing myself? I need to keep clean after treading my paws on such dirt all the time!"

Verne looked ready to explode with anger. "Fine!" He turned to the bird. "Where to? East or west?"

Coldwing shook his wings. "When you guys ran from dos stupid rats you went the wrong way. Now it is too dark to set you back on track."

"We can't wait until morning!" Ozzie exclaimed, "they'll be humans! And dogs! My fainting reflex comes in very quickly, so when there is danger, you guys all need to follow suit!"

Heather rolled her eyes.

"I'll find us a way." RJ spat irritably. He pulled out his small binoculars from his blue gulf bag that was strapped onto his back. "Hammy," he said, "take these binoculars and climb onto that rooftop!" He pointed with his claws at the old commercial warehouse with a perfect flat roof, ideal for panning out a map of where they were.

"What roof?" Asked Hammy, who wasn't even looking at what RJ was fruitlessly pointing at, "why do I want to climb a roof anyway? Have you seen my feet? When they're really tired, they dance…"

"This is what separates us from the humans, bureaucracy." Said Verne sadly, pointing at Hammy who had decided to dance.

RJ felt like ripping at his ears. "Look Hammy, when I tell you to run, you run. Not to tell me your stories, and not to babble about your feet! I need you to climb on to that roof and tell us our location!"

"Location to where?"

RJ tore at the binoculars with his teeth.

"I'll go." Offered Heather.

"No!" Cried Ozzie, "it's dangerous up there!"

"I'll go." RJ growled. "I can climb. No one else can except Hammy and me."

"I can climb…" Defended Heather bitterly.

The racoon shook his head. The moon above them was folding into a rounded silver crescent and its light poured over their fur. "Just wait for me here."

"Wait," cried Verne as the racoon scaled the pipe leading up into an old gutter, "surely there's a safer alternative? You always take the stupid option!"

RJ snickered to himself but didn't stop. The bricks were loose and crumbled under his weight. Above, the roof had puddles of an old rainfall and lichen had grown over the metal bolts and nuts of the building. But the view was worth a picture. RJ knew humans loved things to sparkle and to shine. And down below in the city, humans had somehow brought the stars to the ground.

RJ levelled his eyes with the binoculars and used it to scan out through the city and into the bleak darkness beyond. Somewhere, out to the west, was their heartland. RJ shivered at the thought of going to this woodland that Verne was so sure about. Living out in Suburbia was way better, if you wanted to be surrounded by food constantly.

Getting back down the factory was harder than first initialised. The gutter and pipes were slippery, rendering it hard to gain a grip on the material surfaces. RJ slipped on the wall and came crashing down. But his fall was silent.

Verne winced, expecting to receive any unwonted attention. Nothing came.

"We need to keep heading west." RJ told them all, popping his binoculars back into his bag, "the heartland isn't that far. We can make it in a couple of days."

"Really?" Inquired Lou.

"Yes." RJ rubbed his back, then cast his eyes over at the skateboard. _So much for freedom._

He strapped the ropes around his chest and middle, and walked forwards, leading the way. The wheels on the skateboard squeaked along as he went.

The night travel allowed no room for play or rest. They journeyed on, bypassing houses and using empty parking lots as much as possible. Heather looked back frequently, and Verne knew she was thinking about home. The small, safe little forest.

They stopped and rested by a lake where an old rotten boat had been strewn across the mud. It was rank with holes and couldn't be used.

As the animals talked and laughed quietly of the golden summers back in the forest, Verne watched the racoon leader munch into every snack he could reach without moving. He smiled grimly as RJ crunched his small teeth into a candy.

"You'll lose a tooth some day, or even several if you keep consuming so much sugar every day." The turtle uttered sombrely.

RJ gave him a soft wink. "Nah. The humans say that to keep you from having it. Right lot of fibbers they are. Health paranoia I call it."

Later that night, RJ lost a tooth.

Dawn broke, and with it came the humans in all their glory, from shouting mobs to roaring cars and exploding bikes full of charred fumes. It was a scary world where once it had been cool and tranquil as long as blackness smothered the concrete jungle. Now it was confusion and utter fear.

Tired and cranky from having to pull the skateboard loaded with diminishing food, RJ took them over a yard where things got worse. Heather had been lagging behind the group, and when she was far enough from her father, a feral group of flapping, barking crows plummeted from the pale skies and tried to attack her. Starved and fascinated by what appeared to be a white rat, an easy target, and was too good to resist. Tiger was the one who rescued her, free from his previous obligation and twice as deadly. His scowls and sharp feline claws got the birds rocketing towards the sky again.

"This journey is getting too dangerous!" Muttered Ozzie much later after the shock of the crow attacks, "we should turn back!" He held his daughter tightly to him, who was now the same size he was, if not bigger.

"What?" Verne asked, turning to him and thus halting the line of animals who were marching onwards. RJ rolled his eyes. This was not a good place to stop. Beyond the last few houses was a land of pure field before they went into more urban area again. And this was the border where rats and other strange creatures mixed between urban and rural, namely hungry racoons, foxes and wolverines.

"I say we turn back! Heather could have been killed!" The male possum said with stark determination in his eyes, "what if it happens again?"

"It won't!" Verne reassured him. "Besides, we can't turn back. Look how far we've come! If we go back now, it would be more dangerous. And would there actually be a forest to go back home to? No!" He answered for Ozzie, but now he was looking at the whole group. But his shy exterior was peeling out. He was afraid of this. "Any one else with doubts?" He asked more nervously.

Stella shook her head. Tiger didn't look pleased to be travelling anyway.

"My son was killed back in our home." Penny reminded them sourly, "so go back I say, and see his body plastered there like rotten murder."

RJ shoved his way into the group, the skateboard straps still tied around his lithe body. "Look, animals and amphibians," Verne purposely trod on his foot, "I know you're all worried, but we've made it this far! We should be darn proud of ourselves! Heck, I'm looking out for you all okay?"

"I von't let a racoon rescue me, I can take care of myself." Tiger interrupted morosely.

"Whatever." RJ looked at each of them in turn. "You can do this! We can all do this!"

"But we don't even know what's out there." Lou said, "we've never been to a woodland."

"It could turn out worse than our small forest home." Added Ozzie.

Coldwing shook his head and squawked ominously, "the woodland is like a paradise, have you not listened to me? It's worth the journey twice over! You'll see!"

"Yes, but what's it really like?" Heather asked doubtfully, "no offence or anything, but you're just a bird. You can't see the things we do."

Coldwing looked highly offended. RJ relished the look of pure annoyance and bedazzlement on the redkite's young face.

"Well, I have been there, vut only as a kitten. It vas beautiful."

"Yes but it could have changed since then."

The racoon dipped his paw into the store of food and took out his tube of Spuddies. "Come on, we're past the half way point. When I was on that roof, the heartland looked so close I could touch it!"

Ozzie looked at him thoughtfully. Tiger went back to licking his precious paws, with Stella stroking him tenderly behind the ears.

"Well, we're in!" Cried the two remaining porcupine kids, Bucky and Spike. The others agreed. Even Ozzie after some gentle prodding from his daughter.

"Fine." Ozzie agreed at last, "but any danger and both me and my daughter will be playing dead back at our home, our one and true home! I couldn't bare it if my baby was hurt!"

"I can take care of myself," Heather said, gathering what remained of her independence, "those stupid birds just caught me by surprise."

"So we're off then?" Verne asked them. His response was a positive, though by spent voices. They were all worn and grouchy.

As the night caressed the world, RJ led them swiftly through gardens and playing fields. Finally he came to a lot of semi-detached buildings were every shortcut was either blocked by garages or gates. They couldn't get through unless they had to go the long way round. As RJ explored the terrain, he spotted a single opening leading west through the houses. But it was an alley. And he didn't trust them.

"Where to, RJ?" Verne asked timidly from behind him. Bucky and Spike, too tired to walk, had decided to rest upon the stack of food on the skateboard.

The racoon thought for a moment. "Through that alley is where we should be heading. But I think we should go around."

"Why not?" The turtle peered at the dark corridor nudged between the houses for himself. "It looks safe. And we need to rest as soon as we can."

The racoon looked over his shoulder and glanced at the array of animals that were his family. A stir of determined affection for them gave him an urge to protect.

"We'll have to be quick then," he said, "it's probably safe, but there's always a fifty percent chance they'll be some mangy stray there, especially at night."

"We'll move in tightly, then," suggested Verne, "nothing will attack a group of animals anyhow. Safety in numbers!"

"I hope so." RJ returned.

After getting everyone into order with the sky slowly bruising into a lightened hue of purple as dawn approached, they moved into the alley.

RJ put a finger to his lips, urging them to be quiet as they slipped down the narrow path. He could see beyond what lay ahead. Empty fields. And that meant fewer humans. But also less food.

The sides of the alleyway was littered with mounds of human garbage and rubbish cans. Keeping a vigil eye, RJ told his family to seek what food they could and to throw it onto the stack on the skateboard. They didn't get very far though. The strange smell of so many different animals together had a habit of attracting company.

A looping stray cat with a blue hint to its fur leapt down from a brick wall and landed nosily onto a rubbish can. Its green eyes flashed in the darkness like a morbid demon. It was about half the size of Tiger, but it had the wariness of a warrior and the stance of an experienced creature. Across its left emerald eye glimmered a bold scar that ran down towards its bottom lip.

"What an odd bunch of animals." The cat yelped curiously, "wondering to somewhere, were you fellas? Just escaped from the local zoo have you?"

Heather failed to see the joke. "There's a zoo round here?" Ozzie clamped a paw over his mouth.

RJ was about to open his mouth when suddenly out of the smothering darkness sprang more felines, each looking sinewy and strong like the first with their own medals of scars and war wounds. They came in cinnamon, black and tortoiseshell and cream. All of them had the starved hunger in their eyes.

RJ swallowed. This was much worse than he was expecting. He slowly backed up, making sure the others were all protected behind him and the skateboard.

"Look, Seble," sneered one with its white splashed tail flicking, "they brought with 'em some food!"

"It's only human rubbish. We want the meat!" Yelled a fat tabby.

The turtle quivered at the sight of so many of them. "We're all veggies, actually." He claimed, hoping his lie would subdue them, "so we won't taste very good."

"You dumb creature, that's what we mostly eat, fat little herbivores like you." Said the scarred one, "I don't know about that shell though. You'll have to take it off!"

He chuckled when he saw Tiger. "I see you bought a pampered house cat. Nice. I remember living in a house once. It wasn't very nice. But I was always called a girl's name."

More and more warrior strays were joining the circus of taunts. RJ was trying to shout over the din.

"We're only passing through, you dumb scoundrels. You don't own the place, I do! And if you lay a paw on any one of my friends here, my racoon cousins will come running to add more scars to your collection!"

There were hisses of dispute and anger. Brazen eyes flickered in the darkness like tiny pinpricks of light. Verne could not fathom what to do.

Finally, the scarred one leapt off his perch from the garbage can and slowly walked towards the racoon. Verne and the others expected another conversation laced with taunts and threats, but they were very wrong.

The scarred one leapt at them, claws lashing and dicing the air. At once everyone broke up in the panic. RJ wriggled himself free from the ropes before meeting the stray cat's charge. The racoon collided with the blue tinted leader. Verne waddled as fast as he could back down the alley with the others. Heather had to keep slapping Ozzie across the face as they ran to keep him from fainting.

The air was rank with the sounds of spitting cats. RJ sunk his teeth into a lone tabby who tried to flank him. Another got a kick in the jaw.

Tiger tried to fight, but a heavy cat, almost as large as himself landed on his back, slashing with claws as sharp as needles. Tiger managed to throw him off as Stella dashed out to unleash her natural defence. A mega explosion of green mist enveloped the alleyway, choking the cats with a horrific smell. One by one they started to flee, coughing and cursing. Some remained, trying to bypass the smell by pressing their noses low to the ground.

The scarred leader of the motley tribe tried to wrestle the racoon to the floor one last time, but RJ was heavier, and kicked him in the head. Bewildered and beaten, scarred face took off with the cats who had remained long enough to turn a shade of green themselves. Only when they had long gone did RJ drop his guard and begin his search of his family.

Stella was with Tiger and they had both been wounded in the fight. Tiger's ear had been scratched, and Stella was trying to locate a bite mark somewhere on her rump.

"Those thieving betrayers." Stella grumbled, "they attacked my dear Tiger!"

"I am very vine!" Tiger said as cheerfully as he could muster, "vhere is everybody else, though?"

RJ just ran past them, looking adjacently, and was finally relieved to find that all the others were bunched together with the skateboard under a weltered apple blossom on someone's garden steps. Behind them the sun was rising.

RJ ushered them over to him, and took them through the rotten smelling alleyway where all the cats once were.

Lou had a paw over his nose. "I swear Stella's stink is getting worse."

The skunk must have heard him. "Come again?" She fumed.

Verne looked nervously about him. "Are they all gone, RJ?"

"All gone, my friend." He responded, carting the truckload of food behind him. "Let's not do that again for a while. We may as well ring their doorbell next time and hide behind the bushes!"

"I agree."

A:N/ Another chapter posted, yeah! Remember, reviews are welcome. It's what we authors need to keep writing. However, flames will just be ignored.

Dib: What about constructive criticism?

Me: Yeah, I accept that, we all need constructive criticism to help us improve, Dibby. Like your head for instance. I think it's too big.

Dib: Hey!

Me: What? It's constructive criticism isn't it?

TBC


	6. Chapter 6 The Last Run

**Dib07:** Hi guys and gals. This has got to be the longest going update on record here on FFN and I am terribly sorry. It seems I am late with everything lately! Anyway, a special thanks to Smilee17 who got this story going again. I mean it, Smilee17. Without your support and ongoing love for RJ and co. this story would never have got a reboot. So here it is. This is the first update of many my dear friend. Enjoy!

A brief summary of what has happened: The animals have had no choice but to leave their home in order to find a better life. The humans have them on the move and it's up to RJ to guide and protect them; for his experiences are a gold mine for this unknown and dangerous expedition. Coldwing, a lonesome redkite, has helped them on their quest and is their scout and messenger. He knows the way to the legendary Heartland; a place where they hope is the last and safe refuge from mankind eternal. But RJ is suddenly getting second thoughts and the task of being the protector and leader is starting to take its toll. Will the responsibilites shackle him, or will they break him?

* * *

**Chapter 6: The last run**

'_All right. I'll give the order.' – Steve Perry – Aliens: Nightmare Asylum_

The fields lay before the tired troop like manna from heaven. It was open and completely free from rats, cats or humans. They were all pleased except for the racoon.

There were crop fields that seemed to splay out for miles and miles with small little pockets of trees and bushes in between. But the sun was veneering the world in a pasty colorful hue and they needed to rest and be safe from danger. RJ, weary and sore from the previous fight, took them into a small alcove of gorse bushes beside a tiny stream. As soon as he stopped, he untied himself from the bothersome skateboard and happily collapsed under a raspberry bush and was quickly asleep.

The others washed themselves up and snuggled down to rest for the day. Coldwing had taken off to roost in the closet tree he could pick out among the flat landscape with the morbid city behind them.

"How much further?" Verne asked Tiger, "I feel that we've walked absolutely miles. Tortoises aren't built for such endurance."

"What's that shell for then?" Asked Stella keenly.

Verne's brow fused into a callous frown. "For protection. You have your uses."

"You think so?" She rested her paws on her hips. "And what might that be? My stink perhaps? Is that the only thing I'm good for?"

"Enough with that!" Verne took a pause, considering quietly to himself that speaking to Stella so hotly would get them nowhere fast, and he didn't want to curdle relations. "Look, I'm just not as gifted as you are okay? If it weren't for you, those cats would have ripped us to shreds!"

For once, Stella looked proud. "Maybe." Was all she said.

Verne almost toppled over when a small orange ball fell against him from behind. He looked to see that it was Hammy.

The squirrel was jumping up and down restlessly. "The cookies!" He cried, "they're gone!"

Verne shrugged. "So? There's still a whole barrel load of food on the skateboard."

Hammy's displeasure didn't dissipate, "but those cookies were my only ones! I hid some, okay? But those were back in the fountain thingy! And they're… they're just gone!"

Stella huffed audibly. She bent down and whispered to Verne, "he's just so hasty; he probably doesn't realize he actually ate them all."

Verne gave her a surprised look. He turned to the squirrel. "Eat something else," he informed him, "and have a nap. We're leaving as soon as that sun hits the horizon."

Now the squirrel looked rather fearful. "The sun… the sun is actually gonna fall?"

"I could spend the rest of my life trying to explain things to you, Hammy." Verne gave up miserably before withdrawing from the crowd and nuzzling in beside a fallen branch.

Hammy was left by himself, as Stella went to nurse Tiger's wounded ear.

XXX

RJ didn't want to wake up. He wanted to sleep forever, curled up in a ball where all his problems were but fragments in a dream and the warm strength of the sun seemed to create an invisible blanket over his dense fur. But the world never left him in peace, especially when he was the protective father of a tiresome family. However, there had been talons in his dream. A mix of human figures thomping about in the unveiling shadows like menacing ghouls. And that coppery smell he so dreaded...blood. it yearned somewhere in calling, and he was left morbidly fearful.

"He's not waking up!" Whispered a small voice. RJ guessed it to be Bucky. And from the strong scent laced on the breeze, the other ones with him were Hammy and Spike. The stink of petulant blood...had gone. Dried up on the breeze like a sour odour passing.

"Maybe he's dead!" Giggled Spike. He felt someone prod his back. He groaned and shifted.

_Stupid rodents. It's not even sunset yet. At least they don't have to cart around a skateboard all the time. _He thought after receiving another painful jab to the head.

He heard Verne yawn and waddle over to see what all the fuss was about. "Kids?" He said, "what are you doing to RJ?"

"Apparently, he's dead!" Hammy informed him brightly, "but he must be faking! He's still breathing!"

"Well, I hope he's dead. Be one less animal to feed." Verne said wily before turning back to sleep.

"This is boring." Moaned Spike.

"Yeah," Bucky replied sulkily, "I wish our games still worked. Stupid batteries."

"Yeah. Why did humans make them rust?"

Hammy jumped on top of RJ's still body and screamed into his ear, "I need more cookies!"

RJ couldn't stand their banter any longer. He sprung to life, causing the stunned squirrel to land on the earth. The racoon stretched and grunted. "Do you kids mind?" He was however thankful they had woken him. If it wasn't for their infantile antics, he may have gone on dreaming a dark dream of blood and human woe.

"No." They sung in unison.

The racoon decided to get up and find a better, quieter place to sleep, but when he tried to move, his tail wouldn't budge. He looked down at it to see that it was fastened to the ground by porcupine spikes.

"Why did you do that?" He growled at them.

"We were playing catch the tail!" Confirmed Spike.

Hammy giggled. "It was hard, because it kept moving!"

"That was because I was sleeping! My tail twitches when I…" His words died on his tongue. What was the use? "If you were my kids, I would have fed you to Vincent. Now leave me alone!" He tugged his tail free and wandered away.

He climbed over a few fallen branches, ears drooped and eyelids heavy. He finally came to another sunlit spot where he was secluded. However he heard movement above him on a canopy of bushes.

"Uncle RJ!" RJ looked up in time to see a small, well rounded young porcupine land heavily onto his tail. It was Bucky again. His overzealous laughter echoed. "I knew I'd find you!"

RJ gave him a plastic smile, feeling a little overpowered and humiliated by being stuck on the forest floor a second time. The porcupine's weight was suffocating. "Yes, now get off." RJ exclaimed, "I need go back and eat things in my dreams!"

"Oh, okay." But when Bucky tried to lift himself, he found he was stuck too. His thin, needle like barbs had sunk rather well into the floor, trapping RJ and himself like two pieces of bait left for a fox.

The racoon bit his tongue and slept anyway. Yet he was shortly woken again by a shrill bird-like cry. Bucky must have released him, as he drew to his feet and looked to the sky. He saw Coldwing circling tightly in a repeated pattern. Danger.

XXX

"What is it?" Verne asked quietly. They heard a foreign bark out in a wheat field beyond their bush shelter. Stella scrabbled up onto Verne's shell to get a better view over the loose bush.

"Get down!" Snapped RJ, knowing well what it was, "it's a fox! If it smells you, you're dead!"

"You can die from it just sniffing you?" Hammy asked stupidly.

Verne and Stella gravely dropped to the earth where they watched the fascinating animal under the thicket. Its long, golden red body was enthralling as it skipped from rabbit hole to rabbit hole in the field, its large nose working away.

"Those are things we need to avoid." RJ warned behind them, "unless you want your appendages bitten off."

"RJ!" Lou snapped, covering his two grown-children's ears.

"But that's what happens when you're lucky!" The racoon retorted feebly.

"It's just like us, looking for food." Stella remarked.

"Yes, but we're the food if it sees us!" The racoon looked crossly at all of them before peering at the distinct creature itself.

Its white painted snout held a forbidden beauty. His mother once said that they were the masters of trickery and dance. And that they could lull rabbits to sleep right under them by dancing.

They all watched the beast, hoping it wouldn't pick up their scent. It wondered further and further afield, until RJ decided it was time to move again even if he was still tired.

"We don't have far," he told them, though he was amazed at how the young porcupines had so much energy to spare, "there's one last village before we can make it into the heartland. Trust me. It'll be easier. Just. One. Last. Lap."

They quietly cheered in elation.

"We're going to make it!" Verne whispered contentedly, "all of us!"

_All of us._

RJ felt something then and a cold chill nibbled into his back. He could not explain the feeling and passed it off.

Coldwing chirped from above. "There's less than a mile left to go."

The sun bent down towards the ground like a golden orb resting on a plate. Its fiery fingers withdrew their clutches as night swept them away.

The smells of the distant farmyard and the odour of cows lost strength and the animals felt peaceful and a little more rested.

Verne offered to pull the skateboard. One of its wheels was coming loose, and Bucky (with a cheap plastic screwdriver he had found) had tried to fix it but had only made it worse. As RJ pulled it across the pebbly earth, the wheel came loose entirely, halting the travellers.

"This is bad luck." Ozzie chimed negatively, "how far from home are we now? I will miss the rosebuds, the cherry tree…"

RJ angrily kicked at the skateboard. "I told you not to fail me!" He was yelling at it.

Verne looked around him, thinking of a replacement. He wondered if they could find a strip of bark, a large segment and use that instead. It would still drag, but it would be faster than he crippled human device.

"We need more wheels!" Heather said.

"I know! But we didn't pack any extras! I can't just cough them up you know?" RJ snapped tightly, "hairballs are bad enough!"

"We're almost there, why don't we just leave it?" Asked Stella. Tiger nodded at her approval.

Hammy's bottom lip quivered. "No! You can't! We need it!" And he hopped on top of the pile to protect it.

"The heartland is about a day away if we move soon." Shouted Coldwing from above as his large burgundy wings beat against the black sky. He trailed a little ahead, and then flew back to scout around their perimeter. RJ threw off his ropes and his blue gulf bag.

"Why don't we stay here for tonight?" He coughed, "eat what we can, then travel the rest of the way when the sun's up?"

"Err, why have we been travelling under the cover of darkness RJ?" Verne asked him, "it's because of the humans. I don't know why they hate us so much, but for their sake as well as ours, we need to go either now or next nightfall."

"But don't you want to get to the heartland as soon as possible?" RJ spluttered, "we can practically run the rest of the way tonight after we've eaten!"

The tortoise looked at him with hard eyes. "I thought you weren't keen on the heartland? Changed your mind?"

RJ shrugged, trying to hide his nervous disposition. "A little." He was not accustomed to bad dreams and hadn't had them much. It was so odd how such a clinging nightmare had sunken into his spirit now of all the places.

"Well, guys, we can't argue." Heather came up to them, her flimsy tail swaying behind her, "we need to worry about the food."

"And the skateboard." Added Lou, patting Bucky's head, whose screwdriver was now broken.

There was a loud shrill cry from the heavens. RJ strained his neck to look up so high. Coldwing was diving towards them like a bullet, screaming, "run! Run! Go now!"

"Why?" Verne shouted into the wind.

Coldwing swooped just above their heads like a gust from a storm; "they're coming! The cats are coming!"

Verne thought he saw the fur on RJ's complexion pale. "Let's move." The racoon ordered.

"But the food?"

"Leave it!" Hissed Stella.

They started running. RJ had stuffed his Spuddies and various other titbits into his gulf bag. Ozzie was wheezing in panic. In moments he suddenly decided to stop, do a dramatic twist in the air before falling limply onto the floor.

"Ozzie! Not now!" Spat Penny.

Tiger ran to the aid and grabbed him by the back of the neck before dropping him on his back where he was secure. Hammy was so quick and light, he was ahead of RJ, and incessantly looking back behind him to see if there was anything coming.

"Hamilton," RJ stated as he almost tripped over a molehill, "go on ahead, see if there is a place we can hide."

The squirrel nodded and dived into the inky blackness beyond.

The turtle could spy the redkite flapping above them only a few feet away. He was using the animals as a guide as the bird could not see well in darkness. "Coldwing, how many are there?"

"Dozens." He screeched back, his pale eyes catching the tinted moonlight, "led by the scarred one."

"And how close are they to us?"

"Close. Too close."

RJ slowed to an ambling pace to run alongside the slower turtle. "Verne," he panted, "you and the others need to go on ahead. I'll slow them buggers down."

"No! We're all in this together! You are not going to get any flea-bitten scars like them, do you hear me?"

"Verne, you're not my mother!"

"Are you sure?"

"No! I mean… yes! Look, I've got a plan…"

"Bought time too." Verne said grimly as they jumped over a muddy puddle.

"Get the others to safety. Meet me later."

"RJ!"

The racoon separated from the fleeing group of critters. Verne could do nothing but watch as RJ disappeared behind them.


	7. Chapter 7 RJ

**Dib07: **Hi all, another chapter from me! Enjoy! And if anyone is still reading this, lemme know and I'll submit more. Thanks.

**Chapter 7: RJ**

'_Come, we'll have him in a dark room and bound.' – Twelfth Night – William Shakespeare_

Hammy had toppled out of the hedgerow and into someone's manicured garden. Compared to Suburbia's proud owners and their yards, it was a pale copy of something magnificent. But it still held a sparkling water feature and a row of delicate rose bushes. And to add to the style was an empty dog kennel. Hammy was fearful at first. Dogs always meant real bad news. But the smells of any canine was old, if not absent.

"We can hide here!" He said aloud to himself, as he looked up at an acorn growing in the middle of the soft green garden. It was good to feel cool, lush grass under his worn feet again.

But then he remembered his task. He zapped back to the retreating group, and he almost ran flat into Tiger.

"I've found a place we can hide!" He said, dancing and hopping about.

"Where, Hammy?" Verne cried, sweating.

His expression tightened and he looked lost. "Oh no, I forgot!"

"For the love of…"

Stella barged forward, "this way! Hurry!"

Verne stopped and counted everyone as they ran past him. He had to make sure everyone was present. However, his count was one short. "Where's Ozzie?"

The white possum was surrounded by three cats. Each one seemed ghostly and skeletal. Their slit pupils bore down at the creature as they decided who should play with it first. They had come fast, much faster than Verne had thought possible, and the redkite's warning had come too late. These feral felines must have been right behind them the whole damn time.

"I love playing before I eat dem!" Boasted the heavy tabby from the alleyway, "I love it! I do! Makes meals last so much longer, don't you agree? I like the soft ones. Soft ones are more fun!"

"Will you shut up?" Barked his friend, "I think this is the same white creature I saw earlier, but there were more of them. Lots more. They're like a circus, this group. Dirty things."

"Yes, I think it's from that animal group who hurt the master."

They nodded vigorously until it looked like their heads would roll off from their lanky shoulders.

Ozzie was completely trapped. There was no way out for him. He was just glad his daughter and everyone had managed to slip away. After his first fainting streak, he must have woken and fallen from Tiger's back, only to be surrounded by felines with fleas from all nations.

"Take me now!" He called to the strays, "or leave my body to the flies!" And he dropped to the floor, hoping his little death act would deter them.

"Stupid white rat!" Quirked the amused tabby, "I could eat him whole!"

"No, we split him up, into three sections." Spoke the wisest.

"No way! I cornered 'em!" Just as he finished his sentence, a rock struck his temple. The cat did a deranged twirl, its legs getting tangled under its belly until it foundered on to the floor, unconscious.

The second cat looked at his comrade. "Is that a symptom of rabies?" He asked him, "sudden paralysing of the body?"

"My father," the cat began, "got sliced open by a…" Another rock struck his forehead, and he too was down.

The last remaining cat started to back-pedal away from the corpses. "Holy Mother of cats," he was wittering under his breath, "they caught it… all of them…" Of course, being as dumb as he was, he never could work out why they had all dropped dead like that. "Maybe it's because the white rat has rabies?"

Before he could run, a final rock struck him between his eyes and he dropped to join the other two.

Work complete, RJ dropped down from his tree and stored the slingshot into his bag. Ozzie came back to life and heralded the racoon as a hero.

"Thank you, RJ! I'm so glad you're on our side! You are deadly when you want to be!"

But their reunion was short. Two more cats were scouting behind them in the fitful night. RJ took Ozzie's paw and together they ran and hid in a cabbage patch. The cats' feral voices carried on the southerly autumn wind.

"We're wasting our time on these animal vagrants." One said slyly, "our chief is just pissed he got beaten by a band of vermin, Crafter."

The older cat, Crafter chuckled. "You're just jealous because you wanted to be chief. But you're too ugly and old!"

His friend hissed contemptuously. "Well, you're ol' grandma said if she was shown a handsome Crafter she'd die happy. She's still living!"

RJ and Ozzie watched the two cats laugh together like old pals, until suddenly Crafter turned and dealt a blow on his friend's nose. Then there was an uproar of hissing and biting as they chased and fought one another.

"What weird, horrid creatures." Ozzie gasped in confusion as their scowls ate the tranquillity of the night.

"That's what happens to strays, Ozzie, they go mad. They were bought and whipped into shape by man, and without a human hand, they go wild again slowly. Now let's go." The racoon hastily ran out with the back of the hedge swiftly with the possum sprinting behind him. They left the battling strays behind in the foray and entered the village. RJ followed the scent of the others until he came to a large garden full of dog toys and a small brick-layered swimming pool. Verne came out to join them from the shadows. His visage was strained with fear. "Thank everything in this godforsaken world that you're back." He said to them, "Hammy's found us a good place to hide until those cats leave. Follow me."

Much to RJ's distaste, Verne led them straight to the dog kennel.

"Well," he said to the tortoise, "you guys come up with all the best ideas, don't you?"

"It's safe!" He reassured him, "it barely smells of dog. The scents are all old, so whatever lived here now is gone, but the sight of the kennel will deter the cats, huh?"

RJ looked at the kennel disapprovingly. All the others were hiding deep inside its cavernous hollow shell like frightened little rabbits. He could see the whites of their eyes glittering back at him like opaque sapphires in the thin moonlight.

"All right, Verne." He said, "but as soon as dawn breaks, and the cats are gone, we're moving."

"Agreed. We all want to be safe as soon as possible."

So they all bundled up together inside the stuffy kennel until there was hardly any room to move. Tiger took up the most space at the back, and was soon coughing a sneezing from some sort of dog allergy.

They couldn't tell where Coldwing was, and they hoped that he was safe, though Verne was never particularly worried about him, since he could fly and be out of danger sooner. His freedom of the ground often made the tortoise, and even RJ, envious. But he had proved to be a great asset to their cause.

"If Coldwing hadn't have warned us of them coming," Verne was telling RJ, "I'm sure we'd all be cat food."

RJ shrugged noncommittally. "We can take them, Verne. They're just bullies. Cats will sooner turn and flee than fight something craftier than them. Humans made them into cowards."

Hammy's chosen spot kept them safe until dawn arrived. The cats hadn't ventured near the gardens at all. So one by one, the herd of strange animals fell asleep, satisfied and convinced that the threat had gone.

RJ however, did not enjoy sleeping where a dirty hound had been, so he clambered on top of the kennel and kept an eye out for humans or any return of the cats. And he noticed, to his curiosity that there was no further signs of Coldwing either.

_How strange._

Maybe the bird had found somewhere else to rest? Or was catching an early meal for himself?

RJ himself soon nodded off, too tired to remain vigilant.

XXX

A soft whining, accompanied by a sharp bark hit RJ's ears some time later. His flight instincts yanked him out of his dreams as if his body had just received a shower of hot water.

Dog!

The image came to him of a black slobbering canine, as dumb as a human but as savage and merciless as a wolf. He awoke so hard he fell from his kennel roof and hit a sharp stone on the ground.

"Everyone! Wake up!"

There was a shuffle and a tide of groaning inside the kennel where the travellers were reposing.

"What is it, RJ?" Murmured the steady voice of Verne, who hadn't even bothered to open his eyes.

The racoon bolted into the kennel, panting shallowly. "There's a dog. A dog out there! Hurry you lazy sleazes, get up!"

"A dog? Where?" Asked Stella as she tried to wriggle free from the mass of animals.

"Never mind that now, you're all in danger!"

The animals assembled themselves and started moving. But it was already too late. A bounding dog had picked up their scent and was running over to them from across the yard. A human was screeching behind it, "Dobo, what's up boy?"

RJ realized that a dog did still live here after all. They had kept it indoors like a house cat. And now they were all doomed.

_Should have left at the fist sign of daylight._

The garden became a din of barks. The animals panicked, and started to flee into the nearest bush, out of the recess that had once been a place of refuge.

The dog came round the corner and approached the kennel with dire excitement. Most of the creatures had now escaped, with Tiger leading them out of danger. But Hammy had remained inside the kennel, frozen on the spot by terror.

Verne turned back to see where the dog was when he was safely submerged by foliage, and safe from the threat. However he saw with horror that Hammy was not with them and RJ was left face to face with the small terrier.

He began to call desperately but to no avail.

XXX

The human's shrill voice pitched to a higher frequency. "Oh my God, a racoon! Jesus Christ! Not good!"

The small yapping terrier had never seen a racoon before, but since his brain functions and thought capacity were so short, he assumed it to be another plaything or a different sized rabbit-creature to chase and tear apart. That was what the dog loved. To grapple with toys and squeeze them until everything oozed out.

He began barking at the racoon with ecstatic energy; it perforated the air like gun reports.

As the warm autumn sun swept over the village, RJ began circling the dog on all fours, sneering and revealing his small, flinty teeth. He kept the mad dog at a distance from him, but he didn't know how long it would last. If he ran, he'd likely be caught and die. Dogs chased what ran. But when confronted, the canines were confused by the challenge and often took a leap towards their prey. If this dog leapt here and now, RJ was ready to react and run; giving himself a second head-start while the dog landed where he once was.

"Hammy," he called through clenched teeth, "get out now! While there's still time!" From the corner of his eye he could see the squirrel look at him helplessly from within the darkness of the kennel. "Please Hammy." He didn't know how long until the stupid mutt would attack. He couldn't let Hammy get hurt. The human was starting to walk over towards them. "Go Hammy!"

Some sort of lost sense finally kicked in and Hammy shot out of the kennel faster than a taut arrow. He jumped into the foliage lining the garden and past the fence. He was safe.

RJ no longer saw a purpose to continue advancing on the dog as he and the mutt went round in a cirle. Hammy and all the others were safe. Now it was his turn to regress back into the hedges.

And the dog did not take the bait. He wasn't going to leap... and the human...

The dream...

RJ had to go. He believed in some vague sense that his legs would carry him to safety – and to safety fast.

The moment he turned tail and the dog lost sight of the racoons' teeth; the terrier was after him. Despite RJ gaining speed on all fours (he felt like he was whistling along the ground like a grass-falcon) he could feel the dog's breath on him and its shadow getting heavier and heavier as it reached across the grass before him. It was no good – he realized. No good. He made a mistake. Once upon a time, when he was fit and healthy, he would have outrun this mutt with sublime ease. But he was tired. No, exhausted. And his legs were stiff and heavy. The dog closed in and there was nothing he could do...

With snapping jaws, the canine bit deeply into RJ's left flank. The pain was immense as he felt the needles of teeth sink into soft hide. Luckily he tore loose – or something else gave way, and RJ was free again, pelting towards cover, but the dog was still faster. It circled him again – the manoeuvre so sudden that he almost ran headlong into it. Then the dog sped towards him yet again like a furry train; living for the chase. RJ cried out.

Back in the undergrowth, Verne heard the signals of R's distress.

"I'm going back in there after him!" He declared, "we're not leaving him behind!"

Coldwing landed in front of him like an obstacle blocking his path. "No, you'll be killed," he cried, "it's too dangerous whatever you do."

Verne ignored his protests. "He's family and I am leaving no one behind! If I do not do something now, he'll die!"

XXX

RJ had nowhere to run. Every time he tried to escape, the dog caught him again with its sharp teeth that reeked with blood. The racoon couldn't think straight. Sheer panic and fear had rotted away his senses. All he could do was fight back. But the human was mere yards away from him. The confusing smells and noises where enough to send even a calm animal into the throes of hysteria.

The terrier had such course fur that RJ's teeth could not gain a proper purchase on the animal. And the small yappy dog was so stalwart and agile. He hadn't a chance. But rather than simply give up, he endured as much as he could. He nipped the dog's vulnerable parts, anything that he could reach when the damned brute got close enough. Unfortunately for him, each time he nibbled away at the dog, the canine tore a chunk out of him. Now blood caked his paws, mouth and belly. His mind wobbled to and fro like a boat rocking in a violent sea. The stench of gore was thick and full in his nostrils and for a moment his mind tipped into the dream he had. The human in the shadowy background like a spectator. The gore, heavy and stale. Everything had been preordained.

The human was shouting and yelling like a cockerel. "Get away from that racoon Dobo! You don't know where it's been! It might have rabies or something and I can't afford another vet's bill! Stupid dog!"

To add to the mix of calamity, another human joined the throng. "Oh gosh, what's happening, Viola?"

The voices of the humans were lost however as RJ concentrated on staying alive. A sense of wild ferocity stole over him one last time and his jaws snapped over Dobo's leg when the dog bolted forwards to finish him off. The blood from Dobo slithered into RJ's mouth like putrid mud. He spat it out before the dog grabbed him in the neck and hurled him playfully into the air. RJ's world turned into a living nightmare. One he knew would not end unless he died.

Dark embers of orange, pale yellow with florid green and pasty blues swirled about his head as the sky melded into the earth.

He could no longer pinpoint where the dog was. All he could smell was blood and all he could hear were inundated screams and cries.

For some strange reason, in the thicket of his fear, he thought of Verne and his family, and the bear they had saved him from. He was glad that at least he had spent a year with Verne's company, even if this was the end and this was where fate devoured him.

He closed his eyes, not even realising that he had hit the ground long ago.


	8. Chapter 8 Verne

**Dib07:** Some very encouraging readers asked me if I could update, and so any request asking me to update will be granted. I'm very glad this story is still being enjoyed!

**xxx**

**Chapter 8: Verne**

**xxx**

_'My heart has joined the thousand, for my friend stopped running today.' – Watership Down – Richard Adams_

_xxx_

The sudden blow of crippling loss seemed to melt away the purpose of life for Verne. He watched with horrifying clarity, RJ die at the claws of the dog. The sky, the grass, everything became a contrast of melancholia. All sounds were drowned in an ebb of sorrow.

Stella's paws were trembling. For she too had seen the horror. Hammy, who had been ready to bolt as soon as RJ were to join them as planned, saw that nothing was happening, except that a morbid silence had enveloped the whole group.

"Vhats going on?" Asked Tiger quietly as the dog's barks began to die down, "why aren't we escaping?"

"Because we don't need to." Answered Stella gravely.

"What's going on?" Hammy asked, now tentatively approaching them, his nose sniffing the faint winter air.

When the turtle turned to him, Hammy saw that his eyes were filled with unshed tears. But he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Looking away from the gardens and everything in it, Verne sadly plodded along ahead until he brushed past an old heap of dead leaves and sat himself on a branch at a pool that had collected with dew.

Stella's moist tears dampened her black fur around her eyes. "RJ's gone." She declared to the group quietly, and with a sense of impending finality.

"What? Gone?" Cried Hammy in shock, "he… he ran away?"

"No," said Lou, "what Stella means is, he's gone, Hammy. He's gone to the Dark forest, where we won't see him again for a very long time."

"He's… he's gone there? Well why didn't he say anything?" Tears began to well up over Hammy's eyes too; "it's not fair!"

Even Coldwing seemed to share in their remorse. For it was not often he came across other creatures that seemed to care so deeply for one another. He only knew one other species that did it, and even then they weren't all that good at it.

"He's gone, just vike vhat." Tiger said dryly. And he too seemed to lose the energy to go on. He sat soberly on the damp grass, a shadow of fear and rue on his furry face.

Penny herself had already experienced a dreadful loss with her baby, and so she seemed the less affected because she had become so numb with shock and grief.

Verne morosely looked over the pool and his face came back to him, weary and full of pain. The racoon was gone. It seemed unreal. Behind him, yards away he was probably laying dead in a pool of blood. But it felt like he should still be there with them, coaxing them on, pulling off jokes and being the brunt of the punt. But no more.

"We've got to keep going." Said Coldwing at last after the long silence.

"Yes," the skunk agreed half-heartedly, "it's what RJ would have wanted."

Hammy didn't seem to have heard them. He crawled up to Verne and snuggled against his shell. Verne barely had the will to hug him back.

Lou was standing with his grown kids. Ozzie was wringing his paws. "Maybe… maybe he's not really dead? Maybe he learned from us? And he's faking it?"

Heather took his paw, shaking her head.

Tiger nodded up to the hills. "The heartland is just over vhat belt of trees and vhere's no more houses. We're only a few steps avay from our new home."

But no one took part in the celebration. Everyone was up and started to move out except Hammy and Verne. Coldwing was prodding them earnestly.

Stella backtracked and came back to them. There was a fine line of moisture under each of her eyes. "Come on fellas!" She sobbed, "we're almost home!"

Verne shook his head. "Nothing's going to be the same without him."

Stella took the squirrel and the turtle's paws and hauled them to their feet. "He had a good life, because of us." She explained softly, "he found all that he ever wanted. A family. And he was loved. Isn't that enough? And he died protecting us. Didn't he? Let's not let his last wishes go to waste. He wants us to be safe and free."

Hammy innocently burst into fresh tears after trying so hard to calm himself.

Verne kept his eyes locked on the earthy floor. It moved gently under him, like he was standing in a stream. "I… I don't think I can go."

"Yes you can." Stella persuaded him, "now come on before something else happens."

Verne only went with her because he knew there was no point staying, no matter what his heart told him. RJ was gone for good. And there were still the others to think for, like Lou, Heather and everyone else. Stella was right. RJ had protected them until his dying breath. And the only way to show the dead racoon any gratitude, was to seek this heartland. But now, he was half wishing they had remained in the old forest. If they had, RJ would have still been with them.

Hammy followed Verne, holding onto his hand like a lost child. Behind him he left a trail of tears that glittered in the sun like crystals.

Tiger marked the new temporary leader, as Verne had no will or heart to guide them on. So, with two leaders down, they made slow, nervous progress through dense urban ground. But just as the Persian cat had promised, they soon passed the last house and saw a belt of trees lining the distance. Their heavy hearts lifted, even if it was brief. And past the line of trees, any creature could see a mountain rearing up in the valley beyond, colored a thin lilac with a painted white snowy top. They were indeed almost there. Verne guessed they had one last day of travel left.

Coldwing was circling above them in sadness. The whole group barely talked as they went, leaving the small human dwellings behind them. Finally, Stella muttered to Tiger, "you know, it's ironic, isn't it?"

"Vhat it?"

"That poor RJ lost his life to another animal. Not to a human at all. And after all those risks he made too."

He nodded.

They travelled up the valley and the going got steeper. The heartland was obviously nestled in a valley on top of a hill where the banks curved down, riddled with pine trees. They saw a lot of crowded crows at the line of thick trees and they were watching them with tiny pinprick eyes and sharp bloodstained beaks. They briefly rested under the shadows of a thicket, mourning quietly as the clouds twirled and rolled in the pallid heavens.

The grief and misfortune took its toll on Verne and he left the others to set off on his own to think. Hammy was about to join him, but Stella gripped him by the paw and shook her head.

Verne, lonely and angry, waddled out into the silent pastures and lush hillsides. RJ should have been with them to get this far. RJ should have had the joy of bringing them out of harm. But he was not here. He had been cruelly taken and it made Verne question everything.

He kicked at the grass, eyes watery and his soul full of umbrage. "If we had never left, this wouldn't have happened. It's all my fault! And Hammy's fault! He was the one who led us to that garden with the kennel!"

Eventually he collapsed in the grass, sobbing. Hammy couldn't have known. Mistakes happened. It was just a part of life.

Verne looked up at the weak sun hiding behind a set of fluffy clouds. It was a warm sunny day. Even when the season was turning. Winter was barely forty days away now. And they had no store. All their food had been left behind in the mayhem. He hoped the heartland had something to give to them, after going so long losing everything.

Slowly he picked himself up again and started walking. He wasn't sure where he was going. He just wanted to keep moving.

Voices became to play merrily in his head, feeding from his depression. It's all lost now. Do you think we'll make it?

Only if we try.

Try?

Yes. Have you ever looked into a pool and wondered what might have been?

No.

Then you should.

Verne rubbed the fast-flowing tears out of his eyes. Finally he came to a bank where a small river frothed at the edges. But in the river it was empty of life.

Have you ever looked into a pool and wondered what might have been?

Verne looked at his perplexed reflection and saw his twisted brow and shinning tears. "RJ," he said quietly, "I miss you. I want you back."

Then you should.

Verne looked deeper into the river, and something struck him, like a fathomless idea that tweaked into life. The warm glow in his eyes returned.

Only if you try.

The crows looked on, indifferent on their dark perches. But their dull lives were sparkled briefly by a turtle running madly back to a group of various critters until he was hidden back in the underbrush.

TBC


End file.
